"Et le Louvre!" cried Mademoiselle Viefville, who had some such admiration for every thing Parisian, as Eve had for every thing American.
"And, most especially, the north-east corner of the south-west end of the north-west wing of Versailles," said John Effingham, in his usual dry manner.
"I see you are all against me," Grace rejoined, "but I hope, one day, to be able to ascertain for myself the comparative merits of things. As nature makes rivers, I hope the Hudson, at least, will not be found unworthy of your admiration, gentlemen and ladies."
"You are safe enough, there, Grace," observed Mr Effingham; "for few rivers, perhaps no river, offers so great and so pleasing a variety, in so short a distance, as this."
It was a lovely, bland morning, in the last week of May; and the atmosphere was already getting the soft hues of summer, or assuming the hazy and solemn calm that renders the season so quiet and soothing, after the fiercer strife of the elements. Under such a sky, the Palisadoes, in particular, appeared well; for, though wanting in the terrific grandeur of an Alpine nature, and perhaps disproportioned to the scenery they adorned, they were bold and peculiar.
The great velocity of the boat added to the charm of the passage, the scene scarce finding time to pall on the eye; for, no sooner was one object examined in its outlines, than it was succeeded by another.
"An extraordinary taste is afflicting this country, in the way of architecture," said Mr. Effingham, as they stood gazing at the eastern shore; "nothing but a Grecian temple being now deemed a suitable residence for a man, in these classical times. Yonder is a structure, for instance, of beautiful proportions, and, at this distance, apparently of a precious material, and yet it seems better suited to heathen worship than to domestic comfort."
"The malady has infected, the whole nation," returned his cousin, "like the spirit of speculation. We are passing from one extreme to the other, in this, as in other things. One such temple, well placed in a wood, might be a pleasant object enough, but to see a river lined with them, with children trundling hoops before their doors, beef carried into their kitchens, and smoke issuing, moreover, from those unclassical objects chimnies, is too much even of a high taste; one might as well live in a fever. Mr. Aristabulus Bragg, who is a wag in his way, informs me that there is one town in the interior that has actually a market-house on the plan of the Parthenon!"
"Il Cupo di Bove would be a more suitable model for such a structure," said Eve, smiling. "But I think I have heard that the classical taste of our architects is any thing but rigid."
"This was the case, rather than is" returned John Effingham, "as witness all these temples. The country has made a quick and a great pas, en avant, in the way of the fine arts, and the fact shows what might be done with so ready a people, under a suitable direction. The stranger who comes among us is apt to hold the art of the nation cheap, but, as all things are comparative, let him inquire into its state ten years since, and look at it to-day. The fault just now, is perhaps to consult the books too rigidly, and to trust too little to invention; for no architecture, and especially no domestic architecture, can ever be above serious reproach, until climate, the uses of the edifice, and the situation, are respected as leading considerations. Nothing can be uglier, per se, than a Swiss cottage, or any thing more beautiful under its precise circumstances. As regards these mushroom temples, which are the offspring of Mammon, let them be dedicated to whom they may, I should exactly reverse the opinion, and say, that while nothing can be much more beautiful, per se, nothing can be in worse taste, than to put them where they are."